Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
I thought it was fucking insane and informed him that women used to give birth on battlefields, but that didn’t have its intended effect. He’d just glowered, cursed then continued to rant about his wife and daughter’s safety, and me being a cold, unfeeling shrew.
And as much as I was certain of Nora’s ability to bake a cake and not fall into the mixer or whatever Rowan thought would happen, I also adored my sister-in-law and needed the distraction enough that I was there. Plus, maybe I wanted to prove to my brother, and myself, that I wasn’t a cold, unfeeling shrew.
It was Friday evening. And although my will was steadfast when it came to everything from 5:00 a.m. wakeups to processed sugar and ice baths, Shaw Shack was calling to me. Even though I had about 101 reasons why that was a bad fucking idea.
“It’s for Clara Shaw,” Nora explained as she made finishing touches to the eyelashes. Apparently, pink spiders had eyelashes.
I was staring at them as I digested the weird fucking coincidence of being unable to escape the name Shaw.
“She’s a local girl.” Clearly, Nora had taken my silence for confusion. “She’s been battling leukemia for a while, and she’s going to be admitted to the hospital tomorrow for a bone marrow transplant. It’s not a sure thing, but from what I’ve heard, it’s a step in the direction of her getting better.” She squeezed her eyes closed with an expression of agony that I always wore on the inside when I thought about Clara Shaw. “I hope it is, at least. No one deserves that. No child. No parent.”
I felt the words echo in the empty places inside of me. Just as I’d been struggling not to think of Elliot Shaw, I was also trying my best not to think of his niece, to not think about how the transplant would help her. That she’d hopefully go on to live a long, exciting, happy life. That she’d barely remember the time when she was sick, and it would only haunt the adults who’d had to helplessly watch on.
“Anyway.” Nora wiped a tear from her eye. “She loves spiders and the color pink. Plus, a little sugar is in order for what she’s gone through.” She shrugged. “It’s not much. We’ve got the online crowdfunding account, which I’ve made sure a portion of all bakery proceeds go toward. But…”
I kept the knowledge of the crowdfunding account in my proverbial back pocket before I focused on Nora’s scrunched nose.
Because I knew my sister-in-law, knew her heart was tender and bigger than anyone I’d met. I knew she was suddenly doubting this gesture, beating herself up about it not being enough.
“It’s perfect.” I squeezed her arm. “You’re letting them know they’re not alone, which I’m guessing is everything right now.”
Nora looked up at me with a questioning eye, which was warranted since I wasn’t known for making kind or empathetic statements.
Her expression quickly changed to a wince as she let out a ragged huff of breath that had me immediately on guard.
“You’re not going into labor, are you?” I snapped, worry shooting through me. I was not the person who knew what to do with a laboring woman. She needed the soft, calm energy of someone like Tiffany, Tina’s wife. Or my mother. Or my sister.
Anyone who wasn’t me.
“Please don’t make Rowan be right instead of looking like an over-the-top protective alpha asshole.”
Nora smiled up at me, her cheeks flushed as she rubbed her stomach. “No. I don’t think I am.”
My back stayed rigid. “That doesn’t sound convincing.”
She straightened, her hand going to her lower back, her large belly protruding with a size that unnerved me. Not the actual shape of her. I thought she looked ethereal while pregnant, like the true picture of soft femininity that I’d never embody nor fully grasp. Nor the prospect that there was a fully grown baby in there, waiting to come out at any moment.
Not without considerable pain on Nora’s part. Not for the first time, I thought about how truly powerful women were and how it was the greatest trick mankind ever pulled to subjugate them.
“I’m sure.” She winked at me. “It’s just been a long day, and I still have to deliver this.” She nodded to the cake. “And hopefully this soon.” She motioned to her stomach.
“I’ll do it,” I quickly offered. “Not the childbirth part, fuck no. You couldn’t pay me to go through that.” I shuddered. “I’ll deliver the cake, though.” If only to get her home to people more qualified than me to deal with potential labor and to ensure that I didn’t get yelled at by my brother.
She squinted at me in response to my uncharacteristic offer. I’d been known to offer to babysit both pregnant women and children alike, but giving and being charitable with my time were not things people considered when they thought about me.